


Silver Wings

by bloodredcherry



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 14:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16476932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredcherry/pseuds/bloodredcherry
Summary: Hetty was so absorbed in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice the tall soldier who stepped into her path, until she ran right into him.





	Silver Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: let me start by saying that this is purely a work of fiction and is based solely off the characters in the miniseries.   
> That said, man this story was something that wouldn’t rest until it was written. The first draft was completely different, but I stopped after about a page and a half because I was stuck. Then I thought, ‘what the hell’, changed the characters around and ended up writing over 5000 words in one sitting, it’s funny how writing works that way sometimes.  
> I hope you enjoy my first – and likely only – Band of Brothers story. Please let me know what you think but keep the criticism, constructive please!  
> Anyway, enjoy!

&

Hetty smoothed her bangs and tucked her kerchief into her purse. She flipped open her compact and ran her fingers through her hair, well kiddo, she sighed, this is as good as it’s gonna get. She tossed her compact in with her kerchief and stepped into the mid-afternoon sun.

She didn’t know exactly who she was trying to impress – but just because she didn’t have a guy, didn’t mean she needed to look like a wreck. 

“Red lipstick and high heels.” That was Hetty’s best friend Ginny’s mantra – even when everything went sideways, all you needed was lipstick and high heels.

Hetty snorted, she knew that her blonde friend understood that life was a bit more complicated than that, but Hetty appreciated the optimism nevertheless. She shielded her eyes from the sun, thankful that the sun was setting later and later now that it was nearing the summer months. She went to step onto the sidewalk, when someone brushed past her.

“’Scuse me, ma’am!”

Hetty stumbled back, not the least bit surprised to see that she had nearly been run down by a man dressed in a khaki uniform. Hetty rolled her eyes, brushing stray hairs out of her face.

She knew plenty of girls who were thrilled that the soldiers were in town, and sure – they looked smart in their uniforms and caps, but that’s where the smartness ended. If another GI whistled or commented on the quality of her company Hetty would scream. 

Perhaps she was old fashioned, but she just wasn’t used to being propositioned in the street.

Or at all, she thought, feeling her cheeks heat at the thought. 

Might help if she were stepping out with someone, but so far, the fellas weren’t exactly knocking down the door. 

Ginny had managed to talk her friend into attending a few of the dances at the local hall, but Hetty had mostly stuck to herself, clutching her glass of soda in a death grip. There had been a few men who had asked her to dance, but Hetty was certain that was due to her friend twisting their arm, rather than an actual desire to dance with the quiet brunette.

Hetty was so absorbed in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice the tall soldier who stepped into her path, until she ran right into him.

“Easy their doll,” the man laughed, steadying her. “Where’s the fire?”

Hetty looked up, her brow furrowed. “Sorry?” she asked, before realizing that the young man still had his hands wrapped around her shoulders. “Oh, sorry.” She said stepping back.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the soldier gave her a smile, “it ain’t every day that I run into such a beauty.”

Hetty took her bottom lip between her teeth, “yes, well…” the young soldier looked at her expectantly.

“Where’re you going?”

“Just home,” Hetty replied.

“Say,” the soldier stepped in front of Hetty. “It’s still early, what d’you say about going to the movies?”

“That’s awfully nice of you, but –”

“C’mon.” The man took a step forward, “what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Hetty looked up at him, and saw Stewart printed on his name tape. “look, I’m sure you’re a nice enough fella but I really am just heading home.” Before she knew what was happening, the young man grabbed her wrist.

“C’mon, there’s nothing to be scared of, I’ll get you home before it’s dark.”

“No,” Hetty said quietly, pulling back, but he just ignored her and kept trying to pull her in the opposite direction that she came. “Look, I said no thank you!” Hetty’s last word ended in a shriek, as she tripped over the uneven sidewalk. This time the soldier was too slow, and didn’t manage to catch her, and she landed hard on her knees.

Damn it, Hetty cursed her eyes filling with tears, that smarted.

Stewart stood, towering over her, “Jesus, be careful would ‘ya?”

Hetty just glared.

“Here, let me –” He reached down to help her and Hetty shrunk back.

“Don’t touch me!” She spat angrily. 

“Look lady, that was an accident –”

Hetty opened her mouth to reply, when the sound of boots running towards her caused her to look behind her. It was another soldier, tall, his eyes flashing and furious.

That was just her luck, heat burned her eyes and she knew she was going to cry.

“Excuse me Private, but I believe the lady said no.”

Hetty’s head jerked up, the second soldier was standing behind Stewart, and instead of turning around Stewart just smirked.

“What’s it to you?”

“That’s ‘what’s it to you, sir.”

Stewart’s face blanched, and he finally turned around.

“Shit,” he muttered, “sorry sir, I didn’t see you there.”

“So I gathered,” Hetty could hear the sneer in his voice. “Surely you have something better to do – Private Stewart – than harassing young women in the street.”

“I… uh, yessir!” 

The taller soldier waved the Private away, and Stewart stepped around Hetty.

“Oh, and Private?”

Stewart froze on the spot, “yes Lieutenant Sobel, sir?”

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your night out so far, because your weekend pass is revoked.”

Stewart shot Hetty a seething glare, before he turned, and all but stomped away. As soon as he turned the corner and disappeared, Hetty crumpled onto the sidewalk, tears spilling onto her cheeks, a humiliated flush creeping up the back of her neck.

“I, uh, ma’am?”

Hetty glanced up at her rescuer.

“Are you alright?” The man who had been so commanding only moments ago, suddenly seemed almost… shy. Uncertain. 

Hetty let out a sob and shook her head.

Lieutenant Sobel muttered under his breath, and then glanced at her, as if suddenly remembering she was there. “Well let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can go and fill out a report with the MPs.”

The MPs? Hetty’s brow furrowed, and then she looked up at Sobel a stricken look on her face, “no, no, there’s no need to involve the military police.” She waved her hand, all she wanted to do was go home, and nurse her injuries in private.

Sobel’s brow furrowed in confusion, surely the woman wanted to press charges against the man who had accosted her in the street? The young woman must have read his look because she shook her head.

“No. It really was an accident,” Hetty shifted and then whimpered, “please.” Hetty got the distinct impression that this Lieutenant Sobel was frustrated with her response. His mouth that was set into a firm line, spoke volumes.

Pity he can’t make that an order, Ginny’s voice spoke in the back of Hetty’s mind, and she fought the urge to let out a snort.

“Well, if you’re sure, ma’am.” 

Hetty gave him a small smile, “I’m sure.” 

“In any case,” Sobel continued, “do you think you can stand?”

“I think so,” Hetty replied, determined. She braced her hands on the sidewalk and heaved herself to her feet. Sobel stood at her side, his hands hovering above her shoulders, uncertain if she would make it to her feet.

“Let me help,” he told her, shuffling closer to her, when Hetty glanced at him, she was distinctly aware of how close their faces were. “If, well, if that’s alright ma’am?” 

Hetty didn’t miss the tips of his ears turning red, and she nodded. He carefully wrapped an arm around her waist, he had to stoop a bit and Hetty wrapped an arm around his waist and clutched the fabric of his khaki jacket.

Together they walked – well Sobel walked, while Hetty hobbled along.

Although the park bench was only a few yards away, it might as well have been miles. By the time Hetty settled herself down, fresh tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Careful,” Sobel cautioned, and Hetty gave him a watery smile. All things considered, the young woman in front of him was handling things rather well. As he glanced down at her knees, his own ached in sympathy.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” 

“It’s actually Herbert, Ma’am. My name.”

“Of course,” Hetty shook her head. “Well thank you Herbert.”

Sobel shrugged, he had just happened to be in the right place at the right time was all.

“I’m Hetty.” She said softly, suddenly nervous.

Sobel’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Hetty. What’s that short for?” As he asked this question, he fished his handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Oh,” Hetty pressed her hands together – no one called her by her first name, save her Grandmother. “It’s short for Henrietta.” 

He tore his handkerchief in half and glanced at the brunette sitting in front of him. “You don’t say. My mother’s name is Henrietta.” He touched a finger to Hetty’s leg, just above her badly scraped knee. “Do you mind?” He gestured at her leg and Hetty shook her head. “Let me know if it’s too tight.” 

Hetty took her bottom lip between her teeth as he carefully cleaned any rocks or dirt from her wounds, the best he could. “Out running errands?” He wondered, when he had to dig in to get out a particularly stubborn pebble.

Hetty gasped in pain. “N-no. I just finished my shift at the factory.”

“Hard work?” Sobel made quick work of wrapping the fresh blood from Hetty’s knee, and she shook her head.

“Not particularly,” she brushed her hair out of her face, “mostly tedious I’m afraid to say.” She smiled, and when she did it lit up her entire face. “we can’t all be jumping out of airplanes.”

Sobel quirked an eyebrow and Hetty pointed to the badge on his cap. “I just noticed. Paratroopers?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I thought we were on a first name basis now,” Hetty joked. “After all I don’t just let anyone touch my legs in public.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. What was she thinking?!

This isn’t Ginny you’re joking around with!

If Herbert was scandalized by her words, he didn’t show it, instead he finished tying his second knot, and glanced at Hetty.

“Noted.”

Their eyes locked, and Hetty felt her breath catch in her throat.

Up close she could see the beginnings of stubble along his jaw, and she could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes.

'Well, you could’ve done worse', Ginny’s voice interrupted, and Hetty blushed.

Girl get your head on straight! she chastised herself, glancing down at his lips, she swallowed and glanced away.

Herbert brushed his fingers against the knot on her left knee, his thumb brushing against her thigh. Hetty suddenly realized how intimate the situation was – because although it couldn’t have been later than five in the evening, the street was deserted. The two of them – strangers – were alone.

As if reading her mind, Herbert coughed and stood up.

Relax kiddo, Ginny’s voice chided, it’s not as if you’re necking in the street.

“They’re not as bad as they look,” Herbert’s voice startled Hetty, but she was thankful for the distraction. “Just make sure you clean and bandage them properly when you get home.”

Hetty nodded, “I will.” 

The two of them sat beside each other for a moment before they both spoke.

“Well, I’ll just be on –”

“I should walk you –”

Hetty laughed, and Herbert just smiled.

“You were saying?” 

“Oh,” Hetty suddenly felt nervous, “I was just going to be on my way.” It was foolish she knew, but suddenly she didn’t want to leave.

Herbert scratched his temple. “I still think we ought to inform the MPs…” Hetty’s hand on his arm quieted him and he looked down.

“Honestly, Herbert, it’s alright. I’m just so thankful you came along.”

“Well,” Herbert began before he could stop himself, “then you wouldn’t mind if I walked you home?”

Hetty’s eyes widened, “you don’t need to do that. I don’t live far, and besides, certainly you have better things to do…?” 

Herbert shook his head, “nothing immediate comes to mind.”

If Hetty didn’t know any better, she would have said that he was flirting with her.

'Don’t be an idiot', she looked at the young Lieutenant, who was patiently waiting for her reply. 

He wasn’t flirting with her, was he?

Damn it, Hetty bit her top lip, it was times like this that she needed Ginny’s advice, but her friend’s voice was silent.

Herbert saw the look on Hetty’s face, and he immediately scooted over on the bench, leaving some space between them. 

Hetty immediately felt the absence of Herbert’s weight against her shoulder and she shook her head. 

“I-I wouldn’t mind,” she finally said.

“Really?” Herbert turned to face her, and their shoulders were flush again.

He looked so eager that Hetty felt her stomach drop. 

Gosh, he’s handsome. 

This time Hetty didn’t berate herself.

&

“So,” Herbert commented as they slowly made their way down a treelined street. “Did you grow up in Taccoa?”

“No, Savannah. We moved to Taccoa when I was twelve years old.” Hetty had her arm hooked through Herbert’s – it was the only appropriate way he could help her, without getting her neighbour’s lips flapping. “How about you? Not from the south I reckon?”

“Chicago.” Hetty tightened her grip on Herbert’s arm as she turned to face him.

“You don’t say! Ginny and I are thinking about making the move to Will County. To find work at the Joliet Plant.” Before Herbert had a chance to reply, Hetty continued. 

“Don’t get me wrong, the work is fine in Taccoa, but there’s just something thrilling about the thought of building ammunition…” Hetty’s voice drifted off, she didn’t know why she was telling Herbert any of this. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Stupid?”

“Well compared to you fellas – it’s nothing close to jumping out of a plane.” Hetty paused, “though I imagine not much is.”

“It’s not stupid, Hetty.”

Hetty gave him a look.

“What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”

“I suppose it is,” Herbert replied, and something unfurled in his stomach, she was so happy with the simple fact that he had said her name. He opened his mouth to say something when Hetty pointed to a light blue, single level home, a green hedge lined the small veranda, and the bay window on the left. 

“This is me,” Hetty pointed, and Herbert wasn’t sure if he imagined that she sounded disappointed. 

“Do you need help to the front door?”

Hetty shook her head, “better not.” She squeezed his arm, as the curtains in the bay window parted. Herbert quickly extricated himself from Hetty. 

“Take care of those scrapes.”

“I will.” Hetty knew that she should turn around and make her way up the stairs to the front door, but she found herself rooted to the spot.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Hetty could have sworn he was smirking at her.

She furrowed her brow, and Herbert furrowed his back at her – honestly confused as to why she was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

Hetty hoped her disappointment didn’t show as she gestured to her house, “well, thank you again.” Just as she turned to head inside, she felt Herbert grab her hand.

“Hetty!”

“Yes?” Hetty turned, heart pounding, knees throbbing, staring up at Herbert, knowing full well her mother was getting an eyeful.

He looked conflicted, and before Hetty could ask what the matter was, he fit his hand into hers, in a firm but somewhat clammy handshake.

Hetty stood there, shocked for a second, before returning the gesture – she felt absurd, and she knew when she told Ginny about it tomorrow – that her friend would be doubled over in laughter.

“Goodbye.” Hetty quickly pulled her hand out of his, and all but fled (as fast as her poor battered knees would carry her) up the front steps and to the front door. Before she ducked inside, she called, “and good luck!” She stepped inside and flung the door shut. Leaning against it in the dim front hallway.

“Etty, sweetheart?” Mrs. Orson called from the living room, “is that you?”

Hetty rolled her eyes – as if her mother hadn’t just witnessed the entire exchange!

“Yes, mama, it’s me.”

“How was work?”

Hetty shrugged, hobbling over to the bench that sat beside the coat rack. 

“You realize I can’t hear you when you shrug, Etty.” Mrs. Orson joked, as she stepped into the front door. It took her a moment to take in her daughters disheveled hair and her bloody, bandaged knees. “Henrietta, what on earth happened?” Mrs. Orson rushed over to her oldest daughter, crouching beside her she pushed Hetty’s   
hands out of the way. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s nothing.”

“I just tripped, mama.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. 

“And that young man?”

“He helped me,” Hetty tried again to cover her knees. “Mama, I’m fine –”

“I’ll be the one to determine that,” she swatted Hetty’s hands away a second time. Hetty’s mama carefully undid the knotted handkerchief on Hetty’s right knee and pulled the fabric away.

Hetty peered down at the scrape and was relieved to see that it really didn’t look as bad as she had feared.

Mrs. Orson left Hetty to take care of the other piece of handkerchief as she went to fetch the first aid kit. 

Hetty grit her teeth as her mother wet a cotton ball with mercurochrome, she knew the antiseptic itself wouldn’t sting too badly, but her cuts were still tender. Hetty allowed her mother to clean and bandage her wounds. 

“Thanks mama,” Hetty said as her mama brushed her hair back from her shoulders.

“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

Hetty nodded, pushing herself to her feet. She shuffled to the living room, sitting down on the couch, she settled a pillow on her lap and rested her chin in her hand.

She wished desperately that she could call Ginny, but she knew her best friend’s hands would be full with her six younger siblings, so Hetty would just have to speak to her tomorrow.

Hetty heard her mother whistling in the kitchen, and she was thankful – not for the first time – that it was only her and her brother Andrew at home.

Hetty looked down at her hands, she rubbed them together – remembering the feel of Herbert’s hand in hers, and she wondered if that was what he had always   
intended to do, or if he had lost his nerve.

Lost his nerve to do what? 

Hetty buried her burning face into the pillow in her lap.

&

“Hetty!” Ginny cried as her best friend hobbled into the lady’s locker room the next morning. She dropped her headscarf and ran over to Hetty. “What on earth happened?”

“I’m alright,” Hetty assured her friend, who was nervously giving Hetty a once over. “I just tripped last night on the way home.”

Ginny carefully guided Hetty to one of the long wooden benches. “Are you sure you should be here?”

Hetty swatted her friend away, “knock it off Ginny, I’m fine.” Hetty huffed a sigh, “fine enough to work, but let’s just say I won’t be doing the jitterbug any time soon.”

“Pity,” Ginny quipped, “I know how much you love to dance.”

Hetty tossed her purse at the blonde and Ginny caught it easily. 

“It’s not my fault none of those GIs wanted to dance with me.”

“Well it doesn’t help that you look terrified.” Ginny dropped Hetty’s purse on the bench beside her and went back to fixing her headscarf.

“I did not look terrified.”

“Well, would it kill you to smile?”

“I don’t want to give them any ideas – they’re handsy enough on their own.”

Ginny just laughed as she secured her blue headscarf in a tight knot. She turned to Hetty, “give me your scarf.”

“It’s my knees that are injured, not my arms.”

“Shut up and give it to me.”

Hetty handed Ginny her grey headscarf and her friend made quick work of it.

“Is a turban really necessary?” Hetty asked, “who am I here to impress, Ethel?”

“Hey!” Came an indignant cry from one of the changerooms. The door opened, and the tall redhead leaned out, “I’ll have you know, that I am far too good for you Henrietta!”

“That’s not what you said to that fella at the dance on Friday,” Ginny mused, as Ethel lunged out of the changeroom, half dressed in her blue jumpsuit. 

“You shut your trap, Virginia. As if you’re the one to talk!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ginny shot back, “besides Hetty here is the only one who –”

“You two khaki-whackies leave me out of this!”

“Khaki-whackies?” Ginny turned to face Hetty. “Nobody here mentioned soldiers.”

Ethel let the changeroom door slam behind her, “I know I didn’t.”

Hetty felt her face flush, and Ginny snapped her jumpsuit at Ethel, “if I didn’t know any better, I would say our Henrietta has met someone.”

Hetty’s blush only deepened, “no I haven’t.” She muttered, standing up to grab her jumpsuit from her locker.

Ethel shot Ginny a look. “Absolutely.”

“I said I didn’t!” Hetty slammed her locker shut.

“Okay,” Ethel said, holding her hands up. 

“We were only teasing, Hetty.” Ginny said gently, realizing finally that she and Ethel had obviously hit a nerve.

“And let’s say that I did, it doesn’t matter, because he only shook my hand.” Hetty huffed as she closed the change room door behind her.

It took Ginny and Ethel a moment before they both exclaimed:

“What!?”

Hetty banged her head against the change room door. “I didn’t just trip last night.”

Ginny immediately perked up, “what do you mean?”

Hetty heard the locker room door open, and the voices of other ladies filled the room. Hetty opened her change room door and beckoned Ginny and Ethel inside.

It was a bit tight, but Ethel and Ginny squeezed in beside Hetty on the bench. 

Hetty started from the beginning and it wasn’t long before Ginny was fuming. 

“That creep!” Ethel breathed, but Ginny was too furious to speak, Hetty grabbed her hand and Ginny squeezed it tight.

“From now on, you wait for me to walk you home.”

“Who’s gonna walk you home?” Hetty joked, weakly.

“I can handle myself,” Ginny quipped, and Hetty didn’t doubt it for a second.

“So this other fella, was a soldier?” Ethel interrupted, hoping to lighten the tension in the small change room.

Hetty nodded and continued with her story.

“A Lieutenant?” Ethel all but squealed, and Ginny smacked her arm. “Next our girl will be aiming for a Captain.” Ginny reached over and pinched Ethel’s thigh.

“Shut it!” She hissed. “So this Lieutenant, he’s the one who shook your hand.”

Hetty nodded.

“Didn’t you say he fondled your legs in the park?”

“I did not use the word fondled!”

“Sorry, my mistake.”

Their cackles could be heard all the way out in the hallway and Mr. Dupont checked his watch, before rolling his eyes and banging on the change room door.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but need I remind you that your shift starts promptly at eight am?”

There was the muffled sound of shrieking and doors slamming before Hetty opened the door. “Sorry sir,” she said as Ethel and Ginny slipped out behind her.  
“This is your first warning ladies – this isn’t a social hour!”

“Yes, Mr. Dupont!” All three ladies cried, before rushing onto the main floor to begin their shifts.

**Author's Note:**

> End Note: I’m sorry for ending it here… I really want to continue this story, but I’m honestly not sure if I want it to have a happy, or a more realistic and bittersweet ending. Thoughts? Preferences? Do let me know in a review! Thanks so much and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


End file.
